Deo Volente
by Vlad the Impala
Summary: Alexander Anderson always wished to fight and die in the service of the Lord. He found himself happy as he faded into ash after his defeat at the Count's hands, having succeeded in that wish. With a world consumed by darkness crying out for a savior, he is called back into action. Some would call it coincidence, others would call it God's Will.
1. Legends and Fairy Tales

**Disclaimer: I own neither RWBY, nor Hellsing. As fun as that would be.**

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The stories of Remnant were varied and magical affairs, fairy tales meant to teach lessons to children, or merely to entertain the masses. Tales of Heroes and Monsters, The Knights of Solomon, The Hound of Baskerville, and many more. No one knew when they were first told, only that they were some of the few things that remained from before all history was lost. Some had originally been just that, tales for entertainment. Others, such as the Four Maidens, were believed by some to be absolutely true.

To Ozpin, these tales were small pleasures of his, telling them and recalling the ones that very few people knew of. During his time before becoming Headmaster of Beacon, he would collect as many as he could out on the field. Whether they were local legends, such as vampires, were-beowolves or evil witches, or tales like his most recent discovery, The Legend of King Artorias. Although there hadn't been any Kings with that name during the Great War, it was interesting to at least pretend that this had been a king from before or during their lost history.

It was during one such session of research (when he should have been reading transcripts), that he'd received a transmission from his staff in the Emerald Forest. Preparation for the initiation was something that took some time, repairs from the previous initiation needed to be done. This was usually easy, especially since Glynda had come back from her mandatory vacation during the break, so Ozpin couldn't help but to wonder what could have possibly warranted his attention.

He was caught by surprise when, instead of Glynda Goodwitch, he was instead greeted by one Bartholomew Oobleck. The young professor was clearly excited, far more than his usual caffeine-laced antics anyway. The absence of Oobleck's glasses caused a slight twitch at the corner of Ozpin's lips, "What is it, Bartholomew?" He inquired, amused at the animated professor's impressive ability to remain still.

"We've found something, Ozpin!" The professor exclaimed while walking around in circles, "A tomb in the Emerald Forest, in our own backyard no less!" Oobleck grinned as he looked back at the camera, "The sigil is like and unlike anything I've ever seen! You really should come down here, Headmaster! Words cannot do it justice! If I were to guess, I'd believe it has something to do with one of your legends!"

The Headmaster smirked, there was the catch and Oobleck knew it. Next to coffee, legends and the possible truth surrounding them were some of his greatest passions. Ozpin stood up and grabbed his cane, "Very well, I'll be there in a moment." He said, Oobleck nodded before the feed was cut.

He strode towards his personal coffee machine and let out a content sigh. The sweet aroma of the Elixir of Life filled his nostrils, truly whatever being had graced the world of Remnant with such a concoction surely was a saint of sorts. Not even bothering to drink the substance, he walked towards the elevator ever grateful for his mug. The ability to retain the heat meant that he didn't have to worry about his coffee getting cold before he got to the forest.

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It wasn't a long bullhead ride, although it gave him just enough time to finish his coffee before setting it down. If things were as serious as the Doctor had suggested, it was probably a good idea to have both hands available. He waited for the aircraft to touch down before he stepped off, his cane crunching against the dirt as he made his way down the path lined with various markers. As he grew closer, he could hear the excited chattering of his youngest Professor along with questions from his co-staff, namely Peter Port and his most trusted deputy Headmistress, Glynda Goodwitch.

"The insignia is red with the two keys crossed over one another, one gold and one silver." Oobleck said to himself, unaware of the Headmasters arrival "The cotter is pointed upwards and towards the sides of the shield, and two cords are hanging from the grips or keys."

Ozpin decided now was the time to interrupt "Typically they are red or blue. It seems in this case they are red." he said as he moved past Professor Port and Goodwitch, his hand moving up to touch the shield. "It's surmounted by a tiara, although it seems it is a triregnum in this case."

"A three layered tiara, formed from three crowns, we still have no idea what it represents." Oobleck added with a nod of agreement from the Headmaster. "Two ribbons hang from it, each marked with crosses."

"Although," Peter chimed in, moving his hand over the letters on either side of the ribbon. The letters spelled XIII, the 'X' on the left side of the ribbon and the 'III' on the right. "I am curious as to the significance of the number thirteen. All other versions of this symbol don't have it." He harrumphed, "If I were to guess…it might have significance to one of my favorite stories that I heard as a boy."

Oobleck's eyes darted towards the boisterous professor. Ozpin noted the surprise in the hyperactive professor's eyes and found an amused smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Of course Peter would have some knowledge of this legend. If there was one thing the professor loved, other than his own stories, were ones with violence equal to what he could dish out.

"So you know what this is, Peter?" Glynda asked, shifting her weight from her left leg to her right, "The insignia is very familiar, I recall my family mentioning it to me when I was a little girl." The deputy headmistress crossed her arms in thought.

The portly professor chuckled, his moustache twitched as it hid a smirk. He spread his arms wide, "Of course! Mind you, it is a very old story. Like all stories, there's many interpretations of it. However, they all share one thing in common: They were all based on a hero from the Lost Times. I've heard of him as the Monster Hunter."

Oobleck nodded, his eyes now traced over the symbol with a sense of reverence, "In my home town, he was known as 'The Purifier.'" A whimsical smile passed over his face.

Glynda, on the other hand, did not seem to share in their reverie. The names were familiar; however, Ozpin surmised that the tale she was familiar with was not the same ones that the others shared. Glynda observed the ribbon and frowned, "My family once told tales of a Huntsman that had made the ultimate sacrifice and became the very thing that he hunted." She began, "We called him 'The Monster of God.'"

Ozpin looked towards the insignia again, he scanned over it and caught a small slit in the corner. He turned back to his friends and began speaking, "A great warrior who fought the darkness. For he himself was a force of nature." His left hand rested atop his right hand which clutched his cane. "The Crusader, The Paladin, The Blue Light of Persecution, The White Knight, The Exorcist." He paused. An internal smile was felt as he observed the three of them hanging onto his words. His penchant for theatrics did sometimes get the better of him. "The Saint of Blades, and according to legend, the first Huntsman."

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 **AN: Oh boy, I've been wanting to do a Hellsing crossover with RWBY for a while, and I just figured out how to do it. I realize, I already have another Hellsing crossover going on, and I am not abandoning it, however I would rather put out something of quality rather than force something out.**

 **With that out of the way, welcome to** _ **Deo Volente,**_ **a story that I have been trying to figure out for a few months now. I already have Alucard as a focal point of my other story, so I figured that Anderson would be perfect for this one. I hope you enjoy! And please don't forget to review.**

 _ **Special thanks to wilji1090 who is collaborating with me on this story. He helped to rearrange some paragraphs so they flowed better, and introduced some ideas that I liked. He will continue to do so going forward, or at least for as long as he can continue to.**_


	2. The Vault

**Wow I'm really happy to see how many people are interested in this story. So much so that I've decided to upload the second chapter a bit earlier than planned. As it stands, I have chapter 3 ready to go with chapter 4 being written out. I hope to get one out once a week, but failing that I will hopefully get one out every month at least. With that said, enjoy! Also, I don't own either of these properties.**

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Tales of the Saint of Blades had at one point been as understood as various other fairy tales and legends. The tales varied, but they had all remained relatively the same. One of the first ones being about harnessing the power of dust and with it, the power to destroy the Grimm.

Leaning upon his cane, Professor Ozpin recalled the different tales that Port, Oobleck, and Glynda were each familiar with. It was only natural that legends morphed over time and the Saint was no different. Some believed that the Saint was a deity, one that prompted reverence from both human and faunus alike.

Ozpin hummed, a curious thought crossing his mind. He wondered if the White Fang took the Saint as their patron savior. Others, like Glynda, believed that the Saint fell victim to hubris; a cautionary tale to the wayward huntsman or huntress that desired power above all else. The corners of his lips twitched when he recalled that some renditions had depicted the Saint as a woman.

Ozpin found himself staring at the entrance to the vault with a sense of trepidation. While he certainly prided himself on his ability to discover the truth behind the legends, it was quite fair to say that this one had surprised even him. It was certainly groundbreaking when the first vaults were discovered in Mantle–now called Atlas, Vacuo, and Mistral. He recalled Port's tales of the Saint's symbols, allegedly when the professor's rotund stomach had been a set of washboard abs. The technology recovered from the vaults had been essential in creating the modern age of Remnant. Yet even the most scholarly minds could not trace the origins of the vaults.

The media had erupted in a firestorm with many eager to come to Vale and see for themselves the truth behind one of the oldest legends in Remnant. If there was a silver lining to all of this, it prompted renewed interest in the legend itself. Ozpin scanned the ruins and took note of the glyphs etched into the stone. Like most of the vaults that had been discovered, the Grimm seemed keen on avoiding the place in its entirety.

Naturally, the Headmaster was quite curious as to why. The previous vaults had been scattered across the four kingdoms: six in Atlas, four in Mistral, and two in Vacuo. Bringing the total number of vaults to twelve. The numbers would've helped explain why there was a number thirteen; however, Ozpin was skeptical. He sipped at his coffee. Things were never that simple.

The Headmaster took no pleasure in ordering Port and Oobleck to stay behind; after all, they had discovered the vault. Yet, certain things had to be kept with his closest of confidants–that is to say, those who understood what was beneath the surface. He turned to regard the dark-haired man to his right. James Ironwood was certainly an ambitious, but ultimately well-meaning man.

He was rather impressed by General Ironwood's ability to arrive at Beacon in only two days. More importantly, he was amused by the general's insistence that his curiosity was purely for academic reasons, despite the barely contained excitement in the normally stoic man's eyes. To a scholarly mind, the artifacts and scrolls would help redefine modern history while to the militarily inclined the artifacts represented a new way to hunt the Grimm.

"The first vaults discovered in Mantle held many artifacts that helped people adapt to the cold," Ironwood began, "The ones discovered near Atlas Academy helped propel Atlas above Mantle." The mirthful twinkle in his eyes was obvious to Ozpin and Glynda.

Ozpin sipped his coffee with a smile, "I see," He chuckled, "Forgive me for interrupting, James but might we first look inside the vault first?"

Ironwood gave a scowl before Glynda stepped forward. Raising a hand, Glynda began to glow with a violet pulsing aura. Ironwood stepped back towards Ozpin and watched as the doors began to shudder. Dust shook itself loose from the doors as they began to open with an audible groan. Sparing a glance, Ozpin was quick to note Ironwood's confusion, "This… is it?" the general muttered.

Ozpin stepped forward, "The vaults in Mantle and Atlas, did they look like this, James?" He asked.

Ironwood shook his head, "Not at all, the vaults were usually just single rooms, some may have had smaller rooms conjoining them." He was astounded at the sheer size of the vault itself, even if it was a vast and empty space. "They weren't this large either…"

Glynda leaned heavily on Ozpin's arm when he stepped forward, evidently she had used much more of her aura than intended. The deputy headmistress glanced at the staircase descending into a dark abyss, "I wonder what's down there…" She murmured.

The three of them took careful steps before Ironwood reached into his pocket. Ozpin glanced back seeing the general holding a crystal that now glowed vibrantly. Ironwood set the crystal down upon the steps as they continued their descent into the darkness. Every so often, Ironwood would illuminate their path, yet no one was quite prepared for the general to lose his footing and drop a crystal into the abyss. Annoyance radiated in waves from Ironwood; however, Ozpin's eyebrows raised slightly when the three of them heard a distinct metal clang. Glancing back at his colleagues, they proceeded down at a brisk pace. Spotting the glowing crystal, the three of them beheld a rather large metallic door.

"What is this…?" Ironwood muttered.

"You _are_ the vault expert, James." Ozpin chuckled.

"This is uncharted territory for me though, Ozpin. The vaults have all been built of stone, preserved through whatever glyphs were used to ward the place against the Grimm. This is...this looks at home in one of Atlas' military bases." The general replied. He placed a hand upon the door itself, only to retract it in surprise as the door opened.

Wasting no time, Ozpin stepped in shortly after Ironwood walked in. The general reached for one of his crystals only to be preempted by the whirring of generators and the snapping of lights turning on. A whistle had startled Glynda, not because it was a sudden sound, but because it had come from Ozpin of all people. The silver haired man walked forward, observing the primitive weaponry and books, "I must admit… this is quite different to what I had been expecting." He mused.

"These weapons look… old." Ironwood muttered, "Older than Great War even…"

"How could the vault have held up for so long…?" Glynda whispered in awe. "The designs resemble something found in Atlas, how is this possible…?" A glint caught her eye, looking a bit longer before she moved to the back of the room with a purpose.

Ozpin and Ironwood followed closely behind her. Truthfully, Ozpin had no idea what to make of this place and judging by his expressions, neither did Ironwood. The headmaster watched as Glynda opened a panel, Ozpin nodded affirmatively upon meeting her eyes, "Brace yourselves, gentlemen." She cautioned before pressing a button and promptly taking her place beside Ozpin and Ironwood.

A series of metallic clanks and churning gears greeted them, looking for the source of the sounds until they fell to the center of the room. They watched the floor before them open in a rather large rectangular shape. Ozpin raised an eyebrow as they observed a pod of some kind being elevated and propped up right, "James… did the other vaults have anything like this…?" He asked.

Ironwood stepped forward and placed his hand upon the opaque glass, "Not at all… cryogenic stasis has only been developed within the last decade, and even so something like this…" The general muttered before taking a step back in shock, "What the devil?!" He exclaimed before pointing at the pod, "There's a man in here!"

His curiosity now piqued, Ozpin stepped forward and peered into the cryopod, "How is this possible…?" He glanced back to Glynda and gave a curt nod. "Inform Doctor Oobleck, Team CFVY, and Professor Port that they are needed immediately." He ordered.

Ironwood and Ozpin stared at the prone form of a rather large blond haired man. Ironwood moved to examine the vitals within, "This man is old Ozpin…" He breathed, " _Very_ old…"

Ozpin walked around to face Ironwood, "What do you mean?"

"The attire he's wearing. The black suit and blue trim? It's like what the priests in Mantle wear." The general frowned.

Ozpin shared Ironwood's frown, "Indeed… tell me, James why would a Catharic be this far from Solitas?" The Headmaster inquired with a tilt of his head.

"I don't know… but we need to get this man out of here. This pod is going to fail before long. The pod has at best, a few hours before this man suffocates within."

Glynda stepped forward, with her riding crop raised. She gave a nod, signaling that she was ready. Purple energy emanated from her as Ironwood pressed a button on the pod to decouple it from the mainframe. It was fortunate that Glynda's semblance revolved around telekinesis, otherwise, the task would have been considerably more difficult.

Ozpin stood rooted to the spot and watched them begin their long trek up the stairs. The silver haired man sipped his coffee and frowned before pulling out a scroll, "This is Ozpin. Prep the infirmary, we will be en route with a patient in need of immediate medical attention." He sighed as he spoke into his scroll, "Inform Team CFVY that their objective is to secure the area from any intruders. This area is off limits to all except for Beacon personnel."

Closing his scroll, Ozpin began the long walk back to the bullhead. Things had certainly become more complicated…

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 **AN: Hey guys, hope you enjoyed this one. I'm trying my best to push how many words I can pump into a chapter, but I'm still a beginner when it comes to any form of writing. Thanks again for reading and don't forget to review!**

 _ **Wilji1090:**_ **The continent of Solitas is the northernmost continent within Remnant. While the World of Remnant mentions that Mantle was the first kingdom within Solitas, Atlas came to be the more prominent settlement. As a result, Mantle has largely been forgotten. It isn't impossible to imagine that the people who've remained within Mantle keep some of the more obscure traditions that Atlas might've forgotten.**


	3. Recovery

Stoicism came naturally to Glynda, and outwardly this was certainly evident; however, internally her mind was racing at a speed that would've impressed a certain hyperactive professor. _'No one has even remotely considered the possibility that this man could very well be the Monster…'_ ' She looked at the cryopod with apprehension. _'I certainly hope that the Headmaster's judgment is not clouded on the matter. Having_ him _in Beacon would needlessly endanger our students…'_

"James, I would very much appreciate it if you were to lend some of your finest scientists to examine that Vault. I do believe that it would be prudent to keep this from the Council if we are able." She had heard Ozpin call out, "No doubt that they would wish to make some sort of profit off what we have found as opposed to putting it to good use." In a way, it amused her that such a rare find would stoke the Headmaster's annoyance with the Council.

"Don't worry Ozpin, I'll make sure to send my best agents along with them. Our specialists should be enough to deal with any Grimm that come by." Ironwood sounded unsure of something, "Although…the Grimm seem rather keen on avoiding the place."

"They do indeed. Peter said the same thing yesterday." Glynda replied as she continued to look over the blond in the cryopod. "It's consistent with the other vaults, though this vault's perimeter is considerably larger than the others. Typically, the vaults have a perimeter of two hundred fifty meters that the Grimm avoid, while this one has one kilometer exactly. Apparently, Peter had some aerial reconnaissance done on the area around the vault." Certainly, Port's speeches could get very wordy; however, Glynda could easily appreciate the encyclopedic knowledge that the man had.

"Initiating landing procedures, please hold the cheering until we've come to and full and complete stop. I need to concentrate here people."

"Docking procedures complete. And none of you have any idea how close we were to dying. Thanks, a lot!" The helmsman cleared his throat before adopting an imperious tone. "Ladies and gentlemen, you have noticed that we have come to a full and complete stop. When you exit, please do so calmly and accordingly."

Glynda glanced back at Ozpin, wondering if his penchant for hiring eccentric people had finally died down. Yet the Headmaster seemed to rest upon his cane, eyes closed and an odd smile upon his face.

"I hope that you continue flying Beacon Air, (not that you have a choice), where we'll get you where you need to go, (whether you like it or not)," the helmsman called out, purposefully mumbling his words, "For some of you that are more charitable, I never say no to gifts. You know, for getting you all here quickly and in one piece. That is all."

Glynda rolled her eyes in annoyance. Some things never did change with regards to Ozpin. The Headmaster was a confusing man, in one moment he could dominate a room with his mere presence and in the next complain about his inability to allocate a third of the quarterly budget to coffee.

With a swiftness that was to be expected of Beacon's medical staff, they rushed towards the private dock and met with the trio. Glynda followed Ozpin and Ironwood as they entered the observation room where they watched as the medical staff begin their work. The cryopod was deactivated with the utmost care taken to properly defrost the inhabitant. Gently, they laid him upon the table and began to cut away at his clothing. Or they would have, had the clothing not resisted their every attempt.

Glynda raised an eyebrow while sparing a glance at Ozpin and Ironwood. The general seemed as nonplussed as she did while Ozpin seemed impassive as ever. Even dust infused clothing would've been cut with the medical equipment that they possessed. While a startling development, it was by no means insurmountable as they proceeded to remove the man's clothing with the utmost care. A gown soon covered his body; however, Glynda took note of a strange scar upon where his heart was. Dread began to creep up her spine as the medical staff began to connect their patient to their equipment.

Glynda's eyes widened slightly as she observed the most curious thing: The man's body seemed to reject the normal needles that the surgeons normally used. She found herself leaning forward as she observed the man's aura readings. That nothing could be read concerned her. Even if his aura had been depleted, there would have been something. Glynda glanced over at Ozpin and Ironwood, the general seemed to be as stumped as she had been while Ozpin himself seemed unconcerned. Did anything seem to bother her boss? Ironwood seemed more than willing to voice his question; however, "How can someone not have an Aura?" He asked. "The only things that do not have one are the Grimm…!"

"Ozpin, don't you see that we are putting the students in danger?" A voice spoke. Glynda blinked for a moment before realizing that it had been her that asked the question.

"It's alright Glynda. I suspect that this man's aura simply has not been awakened yet." Ozpin smiled. "We will see to that once he has been seen to." The silver haired man shrugged, "But what intrigues me the most is that he seems to be able to regenerate naturally…"

The headmaster and deputy headmistress watched with growing interest. The Vault of the Saint, or more specifically the inhabitant of the Vault should, by reasonable assumption have been a huntsman. Aura was connected to one's soul and only the Grimm could not use such a thing due to a lack of one. What made this man so unlike what they had expected? Glynda didn't have to look to Ozpin to understand that such questions were running through his head as well.

The intercom clicked when Ozpin pressed the button, they had finally secured the man to the various machines that monitored his vitals. Glynda slightly raised an eyebrow, not used to seeing this side of the headmaster, "Please restrain him." Ozpin began, "If possible, take some samples. Perhaps we can find out what causes him to regenerate so quickly." The beeping of the electrocardiogram began to slowly accelerate as the vitals started to stabilize. "Evacuate the room before he wakes up. I must also ask that none of you share what has been seen here, today."

One by one the staff exited the room. For a scant few seconds the sole occupant of the room was alone before the three entered the room. Glynda had stared hard at the staff leaving. Ozpin may have felt it unnecessary; however, she wasn't one to take the chance, "Remember, you are not to speak to anyone regarding what you have seen under penalty of treason."

Perhaps it was unnecessary; however, Glynda felt it was necessary to contrast the Headmaster's soft approach with one that was decidedly harsher. Still, the medical staff had been some of the best from both Vale and Atlas, so there was little chance of them risking the ire of James Ironwood, let alone Beacon's headmaster. Ozpin kept his eyes focused on the restrained man.

"James, Glynda… if you would?" Ozpin beckoned. The audible click of Ironwood's revolver had indicated that they were prepared if things went sour.

The man began to stir, a groan escaped his lips while he attempted to move his arms. Three more attempts had apparently been enough to cause the stranger to accept his predicament, Ozpin observed. The man's eyelids were fluttering rapidly before they slowly opened and vibrant green eyes stared at the ceiling.

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 _ **A/N: Another new week, another new chapter. This time seeing a bit of the trepidation that Glynda is feeling towards their newest guest. Hopefully his awakening will at least meet your expectations. Until then, see y'all next time!**_

 _ **Wilji1090:**_ **When it comes to Aura, all living things within Remnant have Aura. It's what empowers the Hunters to hit harder and take less damage. As Jaune (crudely) describes it, it's like a force field. Being that it's a manifestation of one's soul, the only things that do not have an Aura are the Grimm as they are soulless monsters.**


	4. Awakening

Hangovers were not unfamiliar to Anderson, and while it had been a long time since he'd felt one the pounding in his head reminded him of why he couldn't understand the people that insisted upon imbibing alcohol in quantities that would cause the throbbing in his head. He wanted to rub his temples and ease the headache, except the fact that his arms were restrained served only to annoy him. Opening his eyes, he found that he was being observed by three people, one of which reminded him very much of the Iron Virgin of Hellsing. Were it not for the salacious attire she was wearing, he would have immediately assumed that this woman was indeed Integra Hellsing.

The attire made him entirely uncomfortable, what with its excess of cleavage or the skirt that seemed unfitting to such a stern woman, the purple cape's strange flame-like design served only to emphasize the strangeness while the riding crop completed the ridiculous ensemble. If she wasn't for the confidence with which she brandished it, then perhaps Alexander Anderson would've been content to dismiss her as a threat.

Beside this Hellsing look-a-like was an older man, adorned with a white overcoat over an ensemble of gray, black, and red. With only a single white glove adorning his right hand, Anderson felt his curiosity piqued as he observed more of the man's features. Silver locks dusted his temples and a strange metal strip was adorned over his right eye for some unknown purpose. He brandished a rather impressive gun that brought back an oddly fond memory of a foe that the Iron Virgin once commanded.

In the center, Anderson regarded the final person with an extreme sense of apprehension. A head of silver hair that seemed entirely unruly framed a light complexion and sharp features. Small, rounded glasses covered his brown eyes. The light complexion, sharp features, and tousled silver hair seemed to contradict the appearance of youth. The calmness that the man sipped his coffee was only betrayed by a slight tensing of the shoulders, indicating that if needed he could strike at any moment.

"I suspect you have questions," The silver haired man spoke. "Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Professor Ozpin." He gestured to the man in white, "This is James Ironwood." Another gesture to the woman, "This is Glynda Goodwitch. You are currently being treated at Beacon Academy. I would like to first welcome you to my school."

Anderson's ears were ringing as he stared at the newly identified professor, "A school…?" He rasped before falling back into a coughing fit. Were it not for the pain in his chest, Anderson would have assumed he had finally entered Paradise. Alas, the pain was what made him aware of something that… should have been impossible.

"Yes. Ozpin nodded, "My school, to be exact. However, I'm afraid that we haven't moved past introductions yet. Could you please tell us your name?"

It had felt like an age had passed before he could recall his own name, as if it were something he hadn't had to remember in a long time. "My name… is Alexander Anderson." He muttered. "Am I… in Rome?"

Confusion, it seemed had crossed between the man known as Ozpin and his assistant. The woman, Glynda, adjusted her glasses, "Rome…? Forgive me, but where in the Four Kingdoms is that?"

Anderson's confusion must have been apparent, "Four…Kingdoms?" There weren't just four kingdoms. Anderson found himself looking at the three of them apprehensively, "Rome… the former seat of power for the Roman Empire." The continued confusion only worsened his gut feeling. "Italy of the continent of Europe, the home of Christendom?" He asked next, more confusion was all that he received in response. Though, the man in white seemed slightly uncomfortable. Anderson fell limp, his mind working double time to try and understand what was going on.

Closing his eyes, Anderson could only recite a familiar prayer, forcing it despite the pain it brought him. "In your hands, O Lord, we humbly entrust our brothers and sisters. In this life, you embraced them with your tender love; deliver them now from every evil and bid them eternal rest. The old order has passed away: Welcome them into paradise, where there will be no sorrow, no weeping or pain, but fullness of peace and joy with your Son and the Holy Spirit forever and ever." A shaky sigh escaped his lips as he felt tears running down his face, "Amen."

It was after some time that the sound of a cane tapping on the ground alerted him to the presence of Ozpin, "Mister Anderson, you have been asleep for a very long time." He said staring at the warrior priest, "What little you have said indicates to me that you have been asleep far longer than our own records can determine."

Anderson watched the headmaster warily, treachery was the nature of the Devil's minions. Yet… for all his desires to determine that the group before him was lying… he simply could not see any ill intent or deceit from them. He let out a sigh before trying to speak, only to be reduced to a coughing fit once more. Watching Ozpin place a straw into a small cup, he was astounded when it was offered to him. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, Anderson took a tentative sip before guzzling down the soothing water in the cup. Anderson cleared his throat, "Beacon Academy… where is it?" He asked, relaxing so that he wasn't pulling at the restraints.

"The Kingdom of Vale, located on the continent of Sanus." Ozpin replied with a hopeful expression on his face. A moment passed before that look of neutrality reset itself, "Does any of this sound familiar?"

Anderson shook his head, "There is neither a kingdom nor continent by those names that I know of." He made a mental note of how Ironwood's eyes widened slightly. The woman seemed to regard him with a similar sense of surprise. He growled when he tried to sit up only for the restraints to pin him down. "Where did you find me?" Anderson asked.

"Go ahead and release him Glynda," Ozpin ordered calmly.

Glynda waved her crop causing Anderson to tense up. Purple energy radiated around his restraints before they released. He honestly expected something horrific to be located on his arms as opposed to the quickly fading redness on his wrists. Rubbing his wrists to restore circulation, Anderson looked up expectantly, "We found you in a vault. Typically, these vaults are reserved for artifacts that we can only assume is relevant to the lost history of Mankind." Anderson's eyes widened in shock as he stared up at Ozpin. "You are unfathomably old. Having said that, I find myself curious: Who were the ones who put you into that chamber?"

A frown marred his features before he set the cup aside. "Truthfully, I do not know how I came to be in that pod." He sighed, "I last recall a beautiful sunrise, and the laughter of children." The priest murmured, catching a noticeable tension from Glynda. Even Ozpin's eyes seemed sharper than they had been.

The Headmaster merely grabbed his mug and stood, he half-turned his head to the others, "I believe that we should let Mister Anderson rest." He said smiling, Anderson could only surmise that the others did not fully agree as Ironwood and Glynda seemed to be bewildered. "He has been through an ordeal and a half. I would assume that finding yourself awake in a displaced time can be quite… draining." Ozpin turned to leave. "I would caution you to not leave the infirmary Mister Anderson. A stranger lurking about the school would give the more… eager of my students an excuse to fight."

Anderson watched silently as they walked out, the door closed allowing him to relax. His eyes traced over the sterile white tiles of the ceiling. "Lord… where have you sent me?" He wondered softly as his eyes closed. It was odd for fatigue to set in, yet even a regenerator needed to sleep it seemed.

* * *

The Vault was magnificent, the mashup of old ruins of lost history and technology that seemed equal to that of the Kingdom of Atlas certainly would change how the world of Remnant would come to view science and history. Velvet Scarlatina watched with amusement as Doctor Oobleck seemed to zip around the room at impossible speeds. How the caffeinated doctor seemed to maintain such enthusiasm astounded the faunus. It wasn't a total bore thankfully. Velvet found herself snapping photographs of various weapons to keep herself entertained. "Simple longswords and blades, some much older than others." She shrugged before snapping away with her camera, "I'd like to say that the guns are better, if we're talking about the modern amenities. Well… what passed for modern back then."

"Seriously." A voice called out, she glanced seeing the familiar black beret of her team leader Coco. The leader picked up a small gun marked HK MP5 and pulled back the bolt before examining it. "Nine millimeter? That's a peashooter! They needed bigger stuff than that to kill Grimm." She laughed before exchanging it for a larger rifle marked SIG SG 550, Velvet noticed that other variants were among them. "This is more like it!" Coco crowed, putting it to her shoulder. "These may be old, but they're comfortable to hold. Might as well keep them for a little plinking. What do you think, Vel?" She asked with a smirk.

"Well do they even use dust rounds?" The faunus found herself asking. "Matter of fact, who knows how long the guns have been down here? The moisture control was excellent, but even after so long these dust rounds must have become diluted." Velvet squatted down and picked up a large ammo box with similar markings to the rifle Coco was examining. She opened the box only to raise an eyebrow in confusion, "These aren't dust rounds!" She stated before handing the round to Coco.

"Alright, I take it back, our ancestors must've been crazy using only slugs." Coco muttered as she examined the round.

"Not just any slug, my dear!" The energized voice of Oobleck called out. "These rounds are made from pure silver!" He exclaimed zipping back while holding a book.

"You seem rather happy, Doctor." Velvet smiled, even as Coco recoiled slightly at the sudden appearance of the Doctor.

"Why of course I am silly girl!" Oobleck grinned wildly, "Education doesn't stop just because you are no longer in school!"

Velvet giggled while Coco merely rolled her eyes, "Whatever, Doc." The leader replied lazily.

"So… Doctor Oobleck, what does silver have to do with the bullets?" Velvet found herself asking.

The doctor's grin grew impossibly wider, "While not as effective as most weapons nowadays and certainly not as potent as dust, silver was the first thought bane of the Grimm." He explained sipping from his thermos. "The discovery of dust rendered the usage of silver obsolete and so that knowledge faded from public memory. Only a scant few recall such a thing."

Velvet's ears twitched slightly, already she could see her leader's eyes scanning over the crates with the gears turning in her mind. The faunus cleared her throat, "Just how old are these ruins?" She asked.

Oobleck shook his head, "Older than the Kingdoms themselves, I daresay." He looked almost reverent at the vast stores of knowledge that lay within. "Truly fascinating…" He turned to the girls, "Let's see about moving what artifacts we can to Beacon, after all ladies… there's a treasure trove of knowledge just waiting to be unearthed here and we need a proper environment to do it!"

Velvet grinned hearing Coco groan in irritation, "This is going to be a long day…" CFVY's leader muttered.

"Cheer up Coco, it could be worse." Velvet laughed lightly. "We could be stuck helping Professor Port."

Coco paused for a moment, the sound of the boisterous professor and groaning Atlas soldiers entering her ears. "Y'know Vel…you make a good point."

* * *

 **A/N: Happy new year guys! Only an hour later than I'd planned, and far less chapters than I'd planned for the month. Sorry about that. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and once again thanks to Wiji1090 for helping me with this chapter. Hopefully my updates once a month (at least) can continue. This one just took a little longer because of the holidays. Look forward to the next one!**


	5. A Brand New World

WoR, or World of Remnant, was a wonderful children's book series on the history of remnant. Filled with colorful pictures and images, it even came with an animated mini-series that aired on Remnant Public Broadcasting. Many of Beacon's own students had started their education there, as small children cooing and laughing at the colorful pictures and animations, the seed of heroism being born in their small souls.

To many students in the library of Beacon, it was a friendly reminder of old times, when they were in preparatory schools for aspiring Huntsmen and Huntresses. Which was why it was so funny to many of them that a rather stern looking individual was watching them with such intensity.

Alexander Anderson, monster killer and one of the most studious of the former Iscariot's agents, was reduced to watching a children's show in the library of Beacon. He had been provided readings and books by Ozpin, but many of them included terms that he was unfamiliar with. Dust, Grimm, Maidens, all were words he knew, but not as they applied to Remnant itself.

He was thankful for the tapes, but the small giggles and laughter of the second, third, and fourth years that populated the library was certainly something he could do away with. At the very least he was glad that to them he simply looked like a Huntsman who was simply panicking on their soon to be first day of lessons.

"You should really learn to relax." A calm voice called out. Ozpin stepped around to regard the warrior priest with a degree of curiosity.

It had been through careful consideration that the Headmaster had decided to allow the priest to be included as part of the teaching staff at Beacon. Ozpin faintly recalled the objections of Glynda, though he had at least understood why. Anderson was an unknown quality, yet Ozpin was confident that this would be more of an… investment as opposed to a simple choice. He sat down at the table and gave an amused chuckle, "I can appreciate the dedication, perhaps though… you are simply overworking yourself?"

It boggled his mind, trying to comprehend what Anderson was, though he was more intrigued about the man's past; however, the man was incredibly tight-lipped about the affair. Nothing about it perturbed Ozpin, especially as he had seen the way that Anderson had seemed to brighten at the idea of teaching children how to survive in the world. In some ways, Ozpin was curious about the things that Anderson knew.

The video came to a pause when he heard the now familiar voice of Beacon's Headmaster. "You gave me a position to assist your staff as needed. If I cannot provide adequate information, not only will your student's education suffer, but my cover will as well. Somehow I doubt the people of Mantle are so separated from the rest of Ear-" he growled "Remnant, that they don't know the basics of their own world."

The truth of the matter was, Anderson did feel woefully underprepared to teach the students of Beacon. He'd done plenty of teaching at the orphanage, and even more for Iscariot recruits, but times had changed over God knows how long he'd been asleep. He didn't know the techniques of hunters now, the weaponry, anything! He had been the epitome of humanity's fight against the darkness, but just from what little he'd seen and learned, things had changed dramatically.

"I once again question why you are trusting me to this level." he said with a sigh, reaching over and grabbing a small mug of now cold coffee, not even noticing its temperature. A result of late nights watching over the children of the orphanage no doubt. "I have taught children yes, and I have taught soldiers as well. None of them were as powerful as the ones you entrust me with. One wrong piece of advice, one mistake, and they could die." he finally looked over to Ozpin "I will do it, do not mistake that, but I once again ask, why?"

Ozpin nodded as he seemed to absorb everything that the priest had said. Yet, the look on Ozpin's face did not inspire confidence, "I believe that perhaps the old ways might serve best." The Headmaster stated evenly.

"No matter how old those ways are?" he asked with a chuckle, turning from the television to look at the Headmaster properly. "The people I taught were without this Aura you speak of. That alone means I must toss out a great many things I did teach to my students."

Ozpin raised a hand, "Not necessarily. From what you have described, you have taught your students, and possibly soldiers, one key thing: Survival. To survive means one has to adapt." He explained, "Aura can only take one so far. Even the most basic of lessons can work to improve one's skillset."

"The students might find themselves in a position where they must continue to work even if their Aura is exhausted." He continued on, "Teaching them how to survive even in such a circumstance could prove advantageous, don't you think?"

Anderson let out a quick sigh and nodded, looking to the books around him before looking back to Ozpin. "I suppose it's about time I met with Glynda about welcoming the students. I'm sure she's ecstatic to know I'll be dealing with them on the first day, rather than chained to the bed like when I was awakened." he said as he stood, standing just a bit taller than the Headmaster himself. It was yet another thing to bring attention to himself, seeing as how he seemed to be taller than everyone he'd met so far at the school. "She trusts me about as much as I trusted her when I first woke up. Witches weren't exactly things to trust during my time."

Ozpin nodded, "I trust you will go easy on her." He gave a smirk, "Glynda is fiercely protective of her home and the school. She may distrust you at first, but don't take it personally." Ozpin sipped his coffee, "I do hope you are ready, Professor Anderson."

"I pray so as well Headmaster." Anderson said, giving a small nod and shaking the Headmaster's hand before leaving the library. Navigating the hallways was still a somewhat daunting task with how large the school was, not to mention that whoever designed the place seemed adamant that its inhabitants would be confused as to where they were at all times.

* * *

He was lucky to get to the main hall on time, the staff getting the finishing touches done for the arrival of the students later that day. In the middle of it wall was Beacon's disciplinarian, watching with a stern eye to make sure everything was in place. From what Anderson had learned from the other teachers, it was thanks to her that the place managed to run at all.

When she turned to face him, her stance stiffened, her grip on her weapon tightening ever so slightly as he walked up. It was a good reaction, even if it was a little annoying that she was so distrustful of him. She relaxed just as quickly, even if her eyes maintained their stern glare. "Father Anderson, it's good to see you have a sense of punctuality." she said, a certain relief in her voice even with her eyes set the way they were.

"Being late in my life typically meant someone was dead that could have otherwise been saved." Anderson said simply, moving alongside her as she began to walk towards some unknown destination "Aside from that, you don't seem like the kind of person that likes being kept waiting."

"You would be correct in that assumption Father." she said softly, passing by the few students that had decided to stay during the arrival of the new students. "Punctuality is something too few people appreciate. Especially in our line of work." she said, annoyance and the smell of alcohol making themselves known in her mind before she pushed it back down. "Back to the reason I wanted to talk to you, I needed to inform you of your duties during our new students arrival."

She stopped the in bullhead staging area of the school, watching as the large ships began taking off to pick up the students waiting in Vale. "You will be assisting students to where the Headmaster will be giving his speech. You will also be assisting Doctor Oobleck in watching the students while they sleep."

Anderson gave a nod as he found a spot to wait for the students. "It isn't unlike my former job." he said with a chuckle "You have nothing to worry over Professor. I've handled my share of children." he said when he noticed her worried stare. "Your students will be safe."

Her stare lingered for a moment before she sighed, turning on her heel before speaking "You are a Professor now, please conduct yourself as such." she said, giving him one last glance before she was off to give a transmission to the bullheads.

He watched her go, a sigh of his own leaving his lips as he made himself comfortable. It was going to be a while.

* * *

Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company and future alumni of Atlas academy. At least, that's what her father had wanted for her. Unfortunately for her parents, Weiss decided that Atlas was not the huntsman academy for her. The disappointment on General Ironwood's face when he was informed of her decision had saddened her ever so slightly. He had seemed excited at the prospect of the Schnee's once again gracing his school with their patronage.

"-and remember, you must uphold the Schnee name. Father holds us all to that standard, even Winter in her service to Atlas maintains that." Weiss sighed, why had her brother wanted to come to see her off? He was far too doting, he made Klein seem reasonable.

"Whitley, I understand how father wishes us to present ourselves. We were all raised together after all." she said, looking to her brother with a bored expression.

His pale skin didn't hide the light blush on his face "I understand that sister, I merely worry for you. You've always been the emotional one." he said, earning a laugh from Weiss.

"Really?" Weiss asked, unable to stop the smug grin on her lips. "You burst into tears when Winter left for the military."

Whitley's facade broke immediately, the privacy of the Schnee bullhead they rode in making him forget his carefully crafted mask. "So did you!" he said, his face fully red even as schooled his emotions once more. "Mother and father couldn't make it for your departure. They wanted family there to see you off, even if Klein would have sufficed. He's practically a third parent." he said with a smile. "With that sister, it seems we've arrived."

Looking out of the window she couldn't stop the small smile that crept across her lips. Beacon Academy, the place she would call home for the next four years. She remained silent, her brother content to allow her the moment until they touched down. They looked at each other, small smiles crossing their features before they both stood. Whitley embraced his sister, his arms holding her tightly as hers loosely held him.

"Be safe sister." Whitley said quietly, his grip growing a bit tighter as he let out a soft breath. Weiss' smile grew at the sound, her hand gently patting his back. The changes her brother went through from his youth to now were remarkable. Gone was the little boy her Uncle had affectionately dubbed _'Shitley',_ replaced by a loving young man.

She gently pulled away from him and gave him a bright smile, something only the Schnees had ever seen. "I'm going to be fine Whitley. What could possibly go wrong? It's not like I'm going to explode. I learned long ago the safety procedures with dust."

"Oh I suppose." Whitley said with a laugh, walking with her to the back of the bullhead, watching as Beacon staff unloaded things for her. "This is where we depart. I hope to see you lead your team to victory in the Vytal festival in the coming months."

Weiss smiled and gave a nod, making sure to school her features once more as she took the steps down to the ground level. She turned and gave him a polite curtsey, Whitley responding with a bow of his own before returning his hands to his back.

As the bullhead took off he smiled once more, watching her walk off before making his way back to the seating area, ready to wait out the ride back to Atlas. He gave a silent prayer, hoping for his sister's safe return to Atlas once her training was complete.

He also prayed that the explosion he he heard was just a result of his worries.

* * *

 **A/N: A shame it's not just a figment of his imagination. I suppose I should explain the huge difference in the Schnee family from canon. When they were introduced in the show, I had hoped they wouldn't be the stereotypical evil family. I had hoped they were simply overprotective of their heir. Unfortunately, they were as cliche as they come, and although Jacques was fun for a while in his smugness, it quickly wore thin.**

 **With that said, I decided to change them, for reasons that won't be truly explained for a good amount of time. For now, just know that the Schnees are a semi-functional family.**

 **Thanks for all the support once again, and please leave reviews. I can't tell what needs to be improved upon unless I get them.**


	6. War Dogs

The entire incident seemed like something out of a bad Spruce Willis film. The red-haired girl who knocked over the mountain of luggage was made to endure the shrieking ravings of a Schnee. It was something Blake Belladonna could almost empathize with. The incident itself could have been soothed with a simple apology, yet the self-proclaimed Dust expert was busy shaking vials of the explosive material and ultimately caused what she had been expecting when the redhead sneezed and caused a massive explosion. Slowly striding towards the two, Blake maintained her impassive expression while the heiress began to shriek like a wailing banshee.

"Unbelievable! This is precisely what I was talking about!" The white-haired girl exclaimed while shaking the soot from her lavish clothes. Blake rolled her eyes resisting the urge to remind the heiress that it was by her hand that the explosion had happened in the first place.

"Hey! I said I was sorry Princess!" The redhead snapped angrily.

Showing that kind of backbone was certainly impressive against Jacques Schnee's brood. Atlas certainly treated the Schnees like they were royalty, a fact that angered her to no end. This time, she did chime in: "It's heiress, actually." Two sets of eyes turned to look at Blake. "Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, one of the largest producers of energy propellant in the world."

The insufferable Schnee seemed to puff up happily, "Finally! Some recognition!" She exclaimed merrily.

Blake tilted her head slightly, "And also the same company responsible for its dubious labor practices and questionable business partners." The outraged look on her face almost made Blake feel bad at bursting the girl's bubble. Almost. Evidently the red-haired girl was ignorant of the Schnee Dust Company, otherwise she would not have been laughing at the heiress' expense.

Weiss seemed to regain some composure, "M-my father's company provides jobs for the people of Atlas who would otherwise be left destitute!" She exclaimed weakly.

Blake could only stare, was the girl truly in the dark about her father's practices? Well… no harm in shattering the poor girl's illusions, "Is it any better when the workers are paid subpar rates? Or when they're forced to live in company towns because of said subpar pay?" She sneered, "But I'm only speaking of the workers in general. I could talk about the treatment of the faunus for days…" She growled. It amazed her that the heiress seemed to grow paler at the mention of the faunus.

Feeling her ability to remain composed dwindling in the presence of a Schnee, Blake stalked off grinding her teeth. Making friends wasn't the objective, she had to remind herself. It was about making a difference and proving others wrong. She exhaled slowly, this was the way to do it. If it meant dealing with the Schnee heiress, then she would tolerate her presence at this school.

* * *

If there was something Jaune Arc had always had trouble with back in his hometown of Arcadia, it was making friends. Thankfully with his new start at Beacon Academy, that was already taking a turn for the better! "Hey...I'm Jaune Arc."

 _Nailed it._

She reached up for his hand which he took in his larger hand, easily pulling her up as he took a closer look at her. _And she's cute! That has to be a multiplier or something! Like 100 times or something! Things are already looking up!_ When she finally got her her feet she looked him, her eyes seeking for a moment before she smiled.

"Aren't you the guy that threw up on the ship?" she asked with a grin

 _Oh come on!_

* * *

The auditorium had filled quickly, a few stragglers coming in as Anderson stood by with the rest of the faculty. He'd overheard Glynda and Ozpin speaking about his request. It was a simple thing really, a small prayer over the incoming school year, something he'd done for both the orphans and the new recruits for Iscariot. He knew his faith wasn't followed anymore, at least not in a way he would probably recognize, but it would put him at ease to give these newest soldiers of God a blessing.

"Excuse me?" he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to face the rather boisterous voice behind him. If he hadn't known any better, Alexander would have thought Saint Nicholas himself was standing before him.

"Aha! I was indeed correct! A Paladin of Mantle, it's rare we see one of your kind outside of the old country!" he said, laughing jovially and sticking his hand out "Professor Peter Port! At your service!" he said, his optimism never fading.

Anderson couldn't stop his own smile from forming as he took the man's hand, the smile faltering a bit as he shook Port's hand. His strength was immense, and despite the burgundy-clad man's sense of style and the way he carried himself, he could feel how worn his hands were. There was something else as well. A profound feeling of distrust. Whether that came from him being an unfamiliar face or something else, he wasn't sure.

What he was sure of was that the Portly professor hid how dangerous he was well.

"Alexander Anderson, Paladin and support for the school year until I can be found a more permanent role here at Beacon." He said with his own smile, shaking the man's hand with equal firmness. Apparently satisfied Port pulled his hand back and placed them at his hips.

"Well I hope you can keep up with me young man!" he said with a grin, his moustache and eyebrows somehow hiding his expressions. "You're looking at the best huntsman this school has ever produced!" He said, unabashed pride emanating from him. "I've heard you already met Glynda, unfortunately some of our colleagues couldn't make it. A bit busy with projects and making sure classes are able to begin on time tomorrow." he said with a grin "So, what's this I hear about you planning to give grace? I was unaware we were having dinner so soon!" he said, his belly jiggling with his laughter.

Anderson sighed and shook his head. Normally such blasphemy would have angered him, but the thought that 'giving grace' even still existed as a concept comforted him rather than angered him. "I would like to give a blessing." he said softly "They are children, made soldiers far too early. The least I can do is pray that they do not have to grow up too quickly." He said, watching as Port's face turned from joking to understanding.

"Good man." he said, his large hand gripping Anderson's shoulder "Some of us have forgotten such things. They are the future defenders of Remnant, but at least for now it would be nice for them to enjoy themselves." he said, looking up when the lights darkened as Ozpin and Glynda took the stage. "We'll have to talk later." he said with a smile and a pat of his shoulder before pulling back into line with the other faculty off to the side.

Anderson did the same, watching the Headmaster from the side as he spoke.

"I'll... keep this brief. You have traveled here today in search of knowledge, to hone your craft and acquire new skills, and when you have finished, you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people. But I look amongst you, and all I see is wasted energy, in need of purpose, direction." His eyes searched across the crowd, looking over them with a scrutinizing eye. The students whispered among themselves, confused by his speech. "You assume knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this school will prove that knowledge can only carry you so far. It is up to you to take the first step." he watched them for a moment, his eyes scanning once more before he made his way off of the stage.

He passed by Anderson and patted his shoulder, his head shaking ever so slightly "Not today Professor." he said, his voice more playful than anything else "We'll save your blessings for when they truly need them." he said, earning a nod from Anderson before finally leaving the stage.

At that it was his cue to leave as well. He was tasked with keeping watch on the ballroom. They were training to be hunters, but they were still teens. Anderson was _far_ too used to what could and would happen if teenagers were left to their own devices.

* * *

It wasn't a long walk, and it was with some surprise that Port stood by, his moustache hiding and yet still somehow conveying his joy at seeing him again. "Ah! Alexander! I didn't expect them to put you on this years detail!" he said with a grin, motioning for him to come closer to him. They stood watch at the front of the hall, a place where they could keep an eye on the students. Glynda would patrol outside for half of the night while a man named Professor Oobleck would be coming in the morning to watch them for the later half. Apparently the man had no issue working at such ungodly hours.

"They thought it was a good way to expose the students to me." Anderson replied, going over and looking out over the prospective students. He couldn't help his chuckle, it was as he expected. Boys showing off, girls either eagerly indulging the view or scoffing and directing their attention to somewhere else. There was even the small argument between the children from earlier, Little Red, Snow White, and some other children he'd not seen before.

There was one thing that stood out above all of those things, something that brought a nostalgic smile to Anderson's face.

"The children at my orphanage used to wear onesies like that." he said, watching as the young man found his spot and quickly curled up to sleep, once again not unlike the children he'd used to take care of.

"Although he's a bit old to be wearing one now, don't you think?" Port asked with a chuckle, already pouring coffee for them as he took a seat at the rather nice seating that had been set up for them. "Although who am I to question him? The boy is already asleep even with the noise coming from those girls." he said with a laugh.

Anderson took a seat of his own, taking the mug offered to him from Port before taking a sip. A look of surprise crossed his face as he looked down at the cup. "This...just how high is the budget for this school?" Anderson asked, surprised by the extremely high quality of the blend.

"Let's put it this way," Port said with a grin and a toast from his own mug "A blank check is something the council hands to Headmaster Ozpin. It's the quality of student that he's produced that gives him that power." he said before chuckling "So of course he allocates enough for good coffee. How else do you think the teachers keep from murdering their own students?"

Anderson just laughed in reply and took another sip of his coffee. They sat like that, silence filling the air between the two old soldiers as they simply kept watch over the calming throng of young men and women.

Anderson watched them, their calm breaths and attempts at whispering filling him with memories of 'sleepovers' at the orphanage. The children would sleep in the common room, trying their best to stay awake. Anderson continued to watch for a bit, a light sigh leaving his lips as his hands came together before he closed his eyes.

" _Almighty and eternal God, those who take refuge in you will be glad and forever will shout for joy. Protect these soldiers as they discharge their duties. Protect them with the shield of your strength and keep them safe from all evil and harm. May the power of your love enable them to return home in safety, that with all who love them, they may ever praise you for your loving care. We ask this through Christ our Lord."_

" _Amen."_

His eyes opened as he looked over, Port's eyes now in full view to the Paladin. They were tired, old, but full of conviction. It was only for a moment, as his eyes were back to their charges in the hall, his eyes concealed once more. "You'll find some will resist your presence here Alexander." he said simply, looking into his empty coffee before the rotund professor stood. "At the very least, I can see my worries were unfounded...more coffee?" He asked, holding his hand out for his mug, his voice jovial once more.

Anderson watched him for a moment before nodding and giving him his mug. "Thank you." he said, for both the coffee, and Port's trust in him. It would be the last words they shared, content now to sit in silence for the last few hours of their duties.

* * *

 **A/N: So it's been a little over a year since I last updated. I have a great many excuses, mostly having to do with my job and not having enough money to dedicate time to this, but I'm hoping to fix that. At the very least I'm hoping it won't be another damn year until my next update. For those that have followed me for a long time, and those that only recently started, I thank you for your patience.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


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